


The Road You Didn't Take

by AnnetheCatDetective



Series: Defiantverse [4]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-20
Updated: 2012-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-03 23:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An arrangement is made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where Or When

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a side-quel to the epilogue of 'Always Another Dawn', in which BLU Sniper Stone meets up with an old associate, and works some things out.
> 
> First person POV again.

At first, I wasn’t sure I’d seen him at all. After all, out in the real world again it wasn’t exactly unusual, seeing a man in a blue suit blending into a crowd of people, and most of those were probably businessmen, not spies.

So like I had at least a hundred times before, I waved the feeling off and went on with my day. I had a job to do, and that meant scouting out the best spot for tomorrow, and planning an exit route that would get me away from the scene of the crime.

Then I stopped to buy a coffee, and saw him for real.

He wasn’t wearing the blue suit, which caught me off guard, and I guess meant the man before was someone else. He was wearing a yellow shirt, which was... well, not unusual, by Italian standards, apparently. Me, I looked like an obvious tourist—I had one outfit that looked like what everyone else was wearing, and that was for tomorrow, for blending into the crowds afters. He looked like he had been born precisely to exist in that moment, outside that café, in that really ridiculously yellow shirt.

In the short spaces of time that I had seen his face, it had burned itself into my memory. Saw him sometimes when I didn’t mean to, dreamed him once or twice in place of the usual sorts of faces I’d dreamed about in the past. Thought about him when I didn’t want to.

He didn’t betray too much when he saw me, and maybe anyone who didn’t know him would think he was cool as anything, the bloody spy, but I shook him.

I pulled out the empty chair at his table, putting on a friendly smile despite the venom in my voice. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” He hissed back, hiding it under a sociable little laugh. “I live here! Well, for the winter, I do. I expect by April I’ll be in Paris—it’s a cliché, I know, but I’ve always loved it. I should ask what you’re doing here.”

“... So you’re not following me?” I blinked.

“No! You’re... not following me?”

“No. I’m here for my job.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “I work, temps du temps. Little things. Just to keep my means in line with my lifestyle. Though you, I imagine, work for work’s sake.”

“Yeah. Didn’t know I’d run into you...”

“Obviously.” He snorted. “So... your job. I hope it has nothing to do with me this time?”

“If it did, I wouldn’t be surprised to see you, would I?”

“Of course.” He smiled into his mug. “Well... it’s—funny, us meeting like this. I wondered... if I wanted it to happen, or if I wanted for us to never meet again. Which would be better.”

“Yeah? What’d you come up with?”

“Ah.” He nodded once, slowly, like whatever he was about to say was some kind of deep wisdom, though it was probably as much smoke and mirrors as everything else his lot ever did. “Well, when I thought about it, very carefully, I realized the best thing would of course be for us to never cross paths. And yet... that was not really what I wanted, either, so...”

“I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about what I want.” I shrugged, flagging down a waitress. Well, trying to.

He succeeded where I failed, and after a brief conference, made my order for me.

“I could’ve gotten by.”

“Really? Because my Italian is flawless. How is yours?”

“... I’m sure she would’ve understood ‘coffee’. All they sell’s coffee, she’d have understood ‘coffee’.”

He laughed. “How did this even happen? I don’t mean us meeting, that is some strange twist of fate, I won’t question it. I mean... why do I love you? I shouldn’t even like you! Un coup de Coeur, one supposes.”

“Fine. Don’t like me.”

“I can’t help it. The heart wants what it wants... You are everything I am not. And we only met because you were hired to—well, you remember.”

“We’d have met after that. And I didn’t really meet you, exactly.”

“Fair enough.” He looked at me. Just looked at me ‘til I could hardly stand it.

“What?”

“Nothing. I think I missed you. I mean, I did, I just...”

“Yeah, well. I should go.”

“Your coffee hasn’t gotten here yet.”

“Then you should go. One of us needs to, just not be here. I can’t deal with you right now.”

“If I go...” He searched his pockets, brought out a small pad of paper and a pencil and jotted something down. “Will you be able to deal with me later? I would like to talk to you.”

“Yeah, and a lot more besides.”

“I promise I won’t ask you for anything you could not give. I promise you I only want... I only want to see you before you’re gone. It’s been a while since everything was so ugly between us, and I’m sorry for that, I was an idiot. I can admit that. It doesn’t have to be for long. But I’d like it to be. You know?”

I let him press the paper into my hand. It was an address.

He tossed some money down on the table and disappeared.

\---/-/---

He looked surprised to see me, when he answered the door, and I was pretty surprised to have knocked on it in the first place.

It was a nice little unit he was staying in, with a view on a picturesque little street. It would have been a normal place, except for the giant vault in his living room.

“Sometimes I handle... delicate materials.” He explained with a smile. “Can I get you something? Wine, or... anything?”

I shrugged. On the one hand, my knowledge of wine extended about as far as ‘well that’s an all right sort of cab sav’, and ‘all right’ kind of covered everything from drinkable to excellent. I imagine if something was really piss poor, I’d notice, but beyond that...

On the other hand, I didn’t think I wanted to deal with him if I didn’t have some kind of drink in my hand.

“Sure. Sounds... sounds nice.”

We sat at opposite ends of his sofa.

“All right. So talk.” I shrugged. “You wanted to see me.”

“Yes. I... Well, you must not hate me anymore. You came, after all.”

“Yeah. Reckon.”

He sighed. “If there was a switch, and I could turn it off, don’t you think I would? I don’t mean to make you nervous, you know.”

“Well, I am a bit creeped out by the fact that you let me bash your face in, and you did it ‘cause you were onto me.”

“Onto?”

“You know. I mean, sexually.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Yes, that was... Well, the whole thing was a disaster, wasn’t it? I didn’t really know what else to do with you. I suppose we were always tinged with violence and the threat of death, considering how I first became aware of you. It wasn’t supposed to go that far. It wasn’t supposed to go. And then... I blame them, I suppose. I didn’t have to really think about it, until I found out... It gave me hope at first, and then... then there was no hope at all.”

He drained his wine glass with a deprecating little chuckle.

“Yeah, well, that’s not your fault.” I offered, shifting uncomfortably.

“There were times when I thought it would be okay... that it wouldn’t ever be an issue, even with the two of us working together. It’s not like some of the more teamwork-oriented classes, we were both essentially the lone wolves. You were always happy to avoid me, and I was able to avoid you in turn.”

“And that changed when you found out about the other spy and his sniper?”

“... No.” He stared down into his glass like he was willing it to be full again. “Before that. I found you one time. Before the respawn. It didn’t matter in the end, I mean, I was killed as well and then we both came back and there was no real harm done, except... except I found you, and... it bothered me. Even knowing it was impermanent, it bothered me. I... I had to wonder if I wasn’t just attracted to you. If I had feelings for you.”

“Oh.”

“Can I make you an offer?”

“Whoa, you said—“ I got to my feet.

“An offer. Not a request.”

“... I’m listening.”

“Anything.”

“What now?”

“You heard me. I offer you anything. Anything you want, and nothing you don’t. There are no strings. No expectations. But if you ever want, if you ever need, anything from me, of any nature... well, I am here. And I understand, everything about you. Your work, your... some of your personal habits. The kinds of things that you like, and things that bother you. And even the parts of you that I should hate, I think perhaps I like. And none of it bothers me. And you know about me. And, well, just—if there was anything, I—You know?”

I shook my head. “Wouldn’t work.”

“What’s to make work? Like I said, I am asking for nothing. Merely... mentioning that I am here. And when I am not here,” He shrugged. “Still. Mentioning that if you ever ask something of me, I will always see what I can do. I don’t only mean things of a sexual nature. I just mean, I’m here.”

“Don’t know what else you mean, aside from ‘things of a sexual nature’. And when it comes to that, well... I mean... I’m celibate.”

“Really?” He tsked.

“You think it’s funny?”

“I think it is a damn waste. You are a handsome man. Doubtless I am not the only person who... who falls for you. If you told me you were heterosexual, I would accept this, I’ve assumed it to be the case. Though, I could be a convincing woman if you ever—“

“I know.” I cut him off. “And I don’t want you to be. And celibate ain’t the same as asexual, I... I just can’t afford the distraction.”

This time it was less of a tsk, and more of a full-blown snort. “So a quick fling you think is distracting, and then you expect you will just work, with no problems, with a lifetime’s worth of sexual frustration building up inside you?”

“Not a lifetime! Couple years. Not like I can’t—I mean, not like I don’t—I mean, it’s none of your damn bloody business, is it?”

“If you were not celibate, would you like men?”

“No!” I lied.

He smiled. “I see. You know where I am. You know what I am,”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Jacques. Didn’t they tell you when they sent you to kill me?”

“Figured it was false. No one knew much about you, thought someone made it up ‘cause it sounded French.”

“No, it’s my name.” His smile was warm now, not trying for seductive, not trying for anything. Just warm and real. “Jackie, to my friends. Well, if I had friends. When I had friends, that was what I was called. No one uses it anymore... But I suppose it doesn’t matter. It’s sort of a childish nickname, isn’t it?”

“Naw. ‘S all right. Um... Ben.” I held my hand out, feeling awkward.

He took it, looking almost shy. I mean, if I didn’t know any better.

“Like the photographer?”

“Far as I know, mate. My parents liked it, that’s all I can tell you.” He still hadn’t let go of my hand, and I wasn’t rushing to make him.

“So. Now you know my name as well. You know what I’m like. You know that I don’t care about all the morally ambiguous parts of your life, and I never will. You know where I am through the rest of the winter, and where I plan to be come spring, and I can always let you know if I move around to anyplace else. And I will not ask you for anything. But I am good in bed. And if you need to blow off some steam with someone you don’t have to worry about, or think about...”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s all right, too. I just wanted to offer. In case you were not... entirely opposed to the idea.” He finally realized we were still sort of attached to each other and let his hand   
slip from mine.

“Why? Why me? Why—why would you be happy to give me anything I wanted and never take anything for yourself? You’re supposed to be a self-serving, smug little bastard, not a—Not whatever this is.”

“I am a self-serving, smug little bastard. But for you, would I debase myself? Utterly. And it is not a question of my taking nothing for myself. It is a question of my being happy with whatever it is I get.”

“Suppose I don’t feel like giving you anything?”

“I’m not getting anything from you now.” He shrugged. “So it really makes no difference. I’m not losing anything, by making the offer. Even if I am not gaining anything, either.”

I looked at him for a moment, really looked, and really thought about what he was offering, and what it meant. Sure, he was good looking... a little distinguished, a little roguish. A little weird seeing him with no mask on. The idea of being touched by someone else never really stopped being attractive, and the idea of no strings was absolutely a pre-requisite. Not having to lie about myself would be a plus.

“You mean to tell me if I just wanted a blowjob and then I walked out, that’d be fine by you?”

He nodded. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Except it wouldn’t, is the thing.”

He laughed. “Ah, mon petit chou, you have some things to learn, I think... I would enjoy every second of it, if that was what you asked of me. I would cherish every drawn-out moment that I was allowed to kneel at your altar. I would worship you, completely. I would consider it a privilege to spend the entire afternoon on my knees before you.”

“I don’t think it’d take all afternoon.” I sat back down, hopefully before he could see my knees shake. And if he kept up this kind of talk, with his voice low and smoky and silky like that, it’d take no time at all.

Hell, the few years I’ve gone without, probably wouldn’t take long anyway.

“I could take an afternoon. If you had the time to spare, I think I could get in a couple of good performances. Of course, if you were only interested in a single quickie, that is doable, but...” He shrugged one shoulder. “I would very much like to take my time with you. It would please me to do so.”

“Okay.” I breathed. I wasn’t exactly going back out in public like this... “Yeah. Please. Okay.”

For a moment he looked at me, that weird sort of shyness, a hesitation that he never followed up with whatever it was he was thinking about saying before he knelt on the floor in front of me and undid my fly.

I didn’t give him much of a chance to prove his talent in the area. A few teasing passes up the underside of my cock, and then over the head, and his hands on me, and I was lost.

“It’s, uh...” I looked away. Had to. There he was, on the floor, and me just having come all across his face, and he looks at me like he’s the one having the time of his life and I can hardly even think about what it is I’ve been doing, but I know I want him, want this again, and I know if I’d noticed he wanted me and been smart enough to give in, I could’ve saved us both a lot of trouble... “It has been a couple years since I...”

“No, no, I’m flattered.” He practically purred. I looked back over to see him rising to his feet, and he wasn’t lying when he said he’d enjoy it too.

“Siddown.” I jerked my head towards the seat to my left. “Look, I can’t... what you did, I’m not—I don’t... I don’t feel right doing nothing for ya... I just, it took a lot to get to this point, and I—“

“I told you, I have no expectations. No demands.”

I cupped my hand over the hard-on tenting his trousers. “Don’t say anything, just... this is as much as I can really give right now, and I want to, but I do not want you talking about it, or thinking about it too much, or anything. I just... Is that okay?”

He nodded, biting his lip, head falling back.

I rubbed him through the fabric for a while first, before pulling him out and handling him proper. I wouldn’t say I’d ever thought much about what other men were like, not for any lack of natural inclination so much as a strong sense of self-preservation even before I reckoned I’d go without companionship. If I had thought about it much, maybe this is the kind of thing I’d have thought about. It’d be the kind of thing I’d think about in future, alone with myself. This whole visit would be playing out in my head the next long, lonely night, or morning. The blowjob, yeah, obviously, but also the length of him, the hardness, the way he fits in my hand. The little moans he tries to swallow, the flush, the sweat, a million other details.

I pull myself together and leave after he comes, before he can come up with anything else to say, before we have to look at each other.


	2. I Wish I Knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set some time after chapter one

“Thought you’d be in Paris.” I nodded to him from two stools down at the bar.

“It’s not April.” He shrugged, lifting his drink. “Besides, I told you once I’d never been here. How did your job go?”

“In Italy?”

He nodded.

“It went off without a hitch.”

“Ah, excellent.”

It had. Thoughts of him had plagued me pretty well every day since... well, even since before we did all we did, but they didn’t get in the way of the job. Since that afternoon, the thoughts of him had actually limited themselves to times when I could do something about them, or if they didn’t, they were more a pleasant distraction than a disastrous one. The plane ride home I’d kept thinking about the way he’d looked at me, just that.

He stood, passing close by me on his way to the exit, and he paused long enough to whisper in my ear. “If you wanted to fuck me, I’d let you.”

There was a napkin in my pocket with an address and a room number, and I hadn’t even noticed when he put it there.

 

\---/-/---

 

“You came.” He smiled brilliantly. “Excellent! I didn’t order room service, so the knock on the door meant someone was here to fuck me one way or the other, and I’d rather not have to fight for my life.”

“You can’t—you can’t say that kind of thing. I mean, you can say it now.” I checked the lock. “But down in the bar? Back there, you can’t—You just can’t say that kind of thing, yeah? It’s not, strictly speaking... well, legal. Could be a hassle.”

“No one heard me but you. It is not legal? For two adults in their right minds to do something that harms neither?”

“I didn’t make the law, you know.”

“But, strictly speaking, is it legal, to put a bullet into a man’s medulla oblongata at a high velocity?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it! I said you can’t talk about it in public!” I ran a hand through my hair. “Course my job’s not legal, but when I’m at home, I don’t mention nothing about it in airport bars! That’s why no one who doesn’t want someone killed knows what I do! Well, and my parents... less said about that, the better. Anyway, would I be here if I wasn’t going to... to do... whatever?”

“Whatever?” He smirked, hand sliding up my chest. “That is vague.”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“So what else is new?” He laughed. “I’d be happy to give you the same treatment as last time, if you are not sure you want something different.”

“Do you... is there anything you want?”

“I want everything.” He shrugged, turning away. “I enjoy it all. I like you. I don’t have to ask you for anything, because as long as what you want is me, I am happy.”

“If there’s one thing... I know I might say no, but I might say yes. I mean, if I can say yes, I will, I want to... I want things to be kind of even between us. If there’s one thing you want to ask for, what would it be?”

“One thing?”

“Yeah.”

“... I want to kiss you. Just once. No, I knew... I knew it was silly to ask. We’ll just do, like last time, like I promised, no strings, and—“

I put a hand out, grabbing his shoulder. “You could. Once. Just a kiss, right? Not a big deal?”

“It is to me.” He smiled sadly.

“How long you think you’ll be in Adelaide?”

“Haven’t made plans. I suppose I could be here ‘til the end of March. Why?”

“Because I haven’t really made arrangements like this with anyone else. And I might come by and see you a couple more times before you go, if you’re not leaving soon.” I shrugged. “So are you going to kiss me, or what?”

He leaned in, eyes fluttering closed, his lips brushing my cheek, where I still had the scar from the RED Spy that respawn never erased.

“Thought you were gonna kiss me...”

“I am,” He murmured, following the scar, one hand at the back of my head, one clutching my shirt. Eventually, he finished with that and his lips landed on mine, just barely, and after a moment, I kissed back.

I should’ve done this first. I should’ve done this long ago...

When we did break, I kissed the older scar on his cheek, the one he’d had a few years ago, when he hadn’t worn the balaclava every waking and sleeping minute, when I’d been hired to take him out, when I’d first seen his face. I felt him freeze up, then shudder softly in my arms.

“You don’t have to...”

“Shut up.” I sighed, kissing his cheek again. Running my fingers through his hair—too short to get much purchase, not at all like a girl, but soft anyhow, and nice. Touching his face, his shoulder, the small of his back.

“You don’t...”

“Want to.” I kissed his lips again. Probably more surprised than he was it was true. “I want to...”

We undressed this time, we hadn’t before, and wound up on his hotel bed, not even between the sheets and all over each other. He flipped me onto my back, slithering down to the foot of the bed, slippery and nearly boneless, and this time he did manage to draw it out, his hands and his mouth playing at bringing me to the edge and then back down so many times I was about ready to beg.

“If you don’t make me come,” I growled, “I’ll shove you off and do it myself.”

His eyes darkened, his breath sped up. “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“By all means...” His tongue flicked across the tip of my cock again, before he released his grip around the base and leaned back from me just a little.

“What the hell are you--?”

He moved to kneel by the bed, grabbed my hips and dragged me over, in roughly the same position as we had been the first time, except I could lay back if I wanted to. I sat up anyway, just enough to be able to see him.

“Bring yourself off.” He whispered, and his breath hit me, hit the evaporating spit he’d left all over me and drove me crazy. “And then come on me.”

“Bloody hell...”

“You liked it, before. Didn’t you? I saw the way you looked at me, just for a second, before you had to stop looking... Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“I think maybe you want this.”

I nodded. Didn’t really have anything else to say. It sounded as good as anything, sounded better than a lot of things, a fair sight better than I would have wanted to admit, but there he was on the floor between my knees, his head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth opened, hand fisting slowly over his own cock, and finishing myself off wasn’t exactly hard work.

What did land in his mouth he swallowed, with this moan like it was a favour to him and not to me, and what didn’t land in his mouth his fingers dragged through, and some he licked up and some he used, along with his own spit, as he jacked himself off and there was another little sound when he came that might’ve undid me if I wasn’t already undone, and then he slumped forward, resting his head and one arm on the edge of the bed with a satisfied little smile and I realized I was really in this thing.

Yeah, it was casual. We weren’t gonna be moving in together any time soon, or even settling down in the same city, and maybe most of the time we’d be on opposite sides of the world, but that didn’t mean it was something less. I’d ease my way into giving him as much as I could. I’d see him when I could. I’d try and do right by him. And eventually he’s gonna stop being the guy who’d do anything for me and start being the guy with a few demands of his own, but I’m guessing he’s spent enough time reading people that maybe he’ll figure out when I’m ready to go there before he does.

Still. It was a thing, between us, that wasn’t complicated, but wasn’t exactly no-strings, because I was pretty sure now that I wasn’t going anywhere else, and I was going to miss him when he was in another hemisphere, and I would break his heart if I called the bloody thing off. Worst of it is I’d hate to. I actually want him to be happy, and I don’t think lethargy and bliss is the whole of the reason why, though I won’t say it isn’t a part of it.

That night I slept in his hotel, stead of heading back out to where I was temporarily living, just north of the city limits.

The night after, I slept in his hotel as well.

When he left for Paris, I went home to find a thick layer of dust on most of my things and new life forms in my refrigerator.

 

\---/-/---

 

“To what do I owe the pleasure, mon ami?”

I balanced the phone between my cheek and my shoulder while I checked over my itinerary. “Take it you’re still in Paris, since you answered your phone.”

“Yes...”

“Feel like traveling?” I asked, aiming for light. Casual. “I gotta be in Spain in two weeks for a banker.”

“Your client or...?”

“Or. Don’t know much about the client. As long as the money’s good, I figure secrecy’s par for the course. Thought if you felt a touch of wanderlust we might meet up. Barcelona. I’ll be there a couple days getting the hang of routines, taking care of preliminaries. Wouldn’t mind a little...”

“Assignation?” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I am perfectly mobile. Always. I’m glad you called, I was lonely. I contemplated putting out a hit on someone just so I could see you.”

“Liar.”

“Yes, a little. But... I miss you. Sometimes. I would love to see Barcelona. I haven’t been to Spain since Majorca, and that... well, it turned out to be a profitable venture in the long run, but it has been a long time... Bien sur, I will find you there in two weeks.”

I hung up the phone feeling pretty good about things. And maybe when it's time to lay low after the Barcelona job, I'll spent a couple nights in Paris. Who knows? After all, no one would ever look for me there...


End file.
